We’ve got a joke for you today...
Washington Capitals.
Okay, now that you’re smiling, let’s talk about bars made out of massive musical instruments.
Have a look at Preserve 24, a bi-level wonderland of bars built from large foreign objects and distinctly American deliciousness, opening Thursday on the LES.
Imagine that your charmingly spry grandfather had traveled the world, jammed all his findings into a massive, lively storage space, and started serving smoked pork chops, scallops and brandied milk punch out of it. Now you’ve got the idea here. Somewhere to bring lots of friends, find a corner and discuss the relative merits of 4am oyster-bacon sandwiches (which they have on weekends).
You’ve got two choices upon entry—stay up or go down. Up yields a café (that’d be the rowboat bar), another bar with ships in glass cases and gin-applejack cocktails. Toss in some fennel-crusted veal chops, and you’re in business.
But you’d be missing out on what’s down. That’s yet another bar with shelves literally made of grand pianos, along with a medieval-feast-grade communal table and a wood-burning, glass-windowed iron behemoth of an oven.
You may also notice a torpedo-looking cage that runs between both floors... actually, you’ll definitely notice a torpedo-looking cage that runs between both floors. That’s where they’ll eventually house a massive hunk of decorative ice they’re harvesting from Greenland.
Just as you suspected.
Washington Capitals.
Okay, now that you’re smiling, let’s talk about bars made out of massive musical instruments.
Have a look at Preserve 24, a bi-level wonderland of bars built from large foreign objects and distinctly American deliciousness, opening Thursday on the LES.
Imagine that your charmingly spry grandfather had traveled the world, jammed all his findings into a massive, lively storage space, and started serving smoked pork chops, scallops and brandied milk punch out of it. Now you’ve got the idea here. Somewhere to bring lots of friends, find a corner and discuss the relative merits of 4am oyster-bacon sandwiches (which they have on weekends).
You’ve got two choices upon entry—stay up or go down. Up yields a café (that’d be the rowboat bar), another bar with ships in glass cases and gin-applejack cocktails. Toss in some fennel-crusted veal chops, and you’re in business.
But you’d be missing out on what’s down. That’s yet another bar with shelves literally made of grand pianos, along with a medieval-feast-grade communal table and a wood-burning, glass-windowed iron behemoth of an oven.
You may also notice a torpedo-looking cage that runs between both floors... actually, you’ll definitely notice a torpedo-looking cage that runs between both floors. That’s where they’ll eventually house a massive hunk of decorative ice they’re harvesting from Greenland.
Just as you suspected.
