Bob Dylan sings about drinking rum in a Portugal bar with his wife, Sara, in... “Sara.”
It’s off of Desire.
Good stuff. Classic heartbreak tune.
That should suffice for stage setting.
So let’s learn from Lupulo, this big nautical Portuguese spot with a lot of beer, just opened in Chelsea by the guy behind Aldea.
This is the kind of place that puts beer in wineglasses, because they think that’s how it should be served (by the way: it is). You’ll have doppelbocks involving figs as well as hard-to-find IPAs and Portuguese beers. There’s a massive bar at the center (you’ll see it in the slideshow) for these very things.
But the basic structure of an evening here involves grabbing the two-top cornered between the elaborately tiled wall and the rope partition. Great f**king table. In that spot, and only that spot, you either have the two-month-aged ribeye (here’s the menu) or share bacalhau with someone you’re willing to share iron casseroles of cod, potato, onion, egg and black olives with.
That’s, uh—that’s bacalhau.
It’s off of Desire.
Good stuff. Classic heartbreak tune.
That should suffice for stage setting.
So let’s learn from Lupulo, this big nautical Portuguese spot with a lot of beer, just opened in Chelsea by the guy behind Aldea.
This is the kind of place that puts beer in wineglasses, because they think that’s how it should be served (by the way: it is). You’ll have doppelbocks involving figs as well as hard-to-find IPAs and Portuguese beers. There’s a massive bar at the center (you’ll see it in the slideshow) for these very things.
But the basic structure of an evening here involves grabbing the two-top cornered between the elaborately tiled wall and the rope partition. Great f**king table. In that spot, and only that spot, you either have the two-month-aged ribeye (here’s the menu) or share bacalhau with someone you’re willing to share iron casseroles of cod, potato, onion, egg and black olives with.
That’s, uh—that’s bacalhau.
