You’re revising your strategy this summer:
Instead of cocktailing on rooftops, it’s hidden basement rock clubs only.
Revision to the revision:
Actually, you’ll do both things. Rooftops and basements. That was a misguided revision for a second.
As for the basement, here’s Downstairs @ Fifty Seven, a new subterranean lounge for live indie rock and classic cocktails by candlelight, opening tonight beneath Fifty Seven restaurant.
After a nice dinner upstairs (or next door at Bestia), you can extend the shelf life of your date with a simple “Hey, let’s go down to the basement.” Then maybe a less simple “There’s a bar and bands and other people down there, too.” So it doesn’t seem weird.
Then step to the left of Fifty Seven’s bar and down some stairs into a moody little slice of underground—steel beams, exposed pipes, black walls, flickering candles—that feels like an illicit NYC after-hours. Until... it doesn’t.
So before some generously beflanneled indie rockers or a yet-to-blow-up Eastside songwriter hits the stage, you’ll squeeze through the Biscuit Lofters to the back bar made of staggered wooden tables—and get a couple classic cocktails engineered by the folks behind NYC’s Death + Co. They’re trying to bring back the White Russian.
If you’ll abide.
Instead of cocktailing on rooftops, it’s hidden basement rock clubs only.
Revision to the revision:
Actually, you’ll do both things. Rooftops and basements. That was a misguided revision for a second.
As for the basement, here’s Downstairs @ Fifty Seven, a new subterranean lounge for live indie rock and classic cocktails by candlelight, opening tonight beneath Fifty Seven restaurant.
After a nice dinner upstairs (or next door at Bestia), you can extend the shelf life of your date with a simple “Hey, let’s go down to the basement.” Then maybe a less simple “There’s a bar and bands and other people down there, too.” So it doesn’t seem weird.
Then step to the left of Fifty Seven’s bar and down some stairs into a moody little slice of underground—steel beams, exposed pipes, black walls, flickering candles—that feels like an illicit NYC after-hours. Until... it doesn’t.
So before some generously beflanneled indie rockers or a yet-to-blow-up Eastside songwriter hits the stage, you’ll squeeze through the Biscuit Lofters to the back bar made of staggered wooden tables—and get a couple classic cocktails engineered by the folks behind NYC’s Death + Co. They’re trying to bring back the White Russian.
If you’ll abide.
