My Sunday night plan was fancy cocktails at Dead Rabbit, an awesome gastropub* waaay downtown in Manhattan. Unfortunately, my knowledge of cool places to drink exceeds my ability to reliably navigate the subway and the train which I had hoped would take us south, actually took us east immediately after Canal Street. Luckily, my companion was nonplussed, and finding a funky destination to grab a cocktail is a much easier task for me than finding my way using public transit.
But, first we needed a little something to eat and, sadly, this was the low point of the weekend gastronomically speaking. It would be pointless to share the name of the mediocre and incredibly garishly (a minimum of 5 different types of stone/bricks clashing with one another as an example) decorated restaurant we unfortunately selected for a light bite. Even the drinks were poorly mixed! After a quick Yelp search, we hightailed it out of there for a promising sounding and blessedly nearby cocktail bar, with an awesome name – Barely Disfigured.
Of course, based upon our server’s directions, we initially went right instead of left which made our walk a bit longer than necessary. Not an issue on a beautiful late summer night at all. Once we found the place, though, it could not have been better or more worthy of our efforts.

I don’t know about you, but I like my cocktail bars to be mellow. I don’t want loud music or crowds, especially during these Covid days. As soon as we walked in and were guided past the empty bar and the unoccupied lounge-y bedroom space, I knew we were in the right place. This was why we ended up in Brooklyn!
We had a choice of tables when we were seated on the large back patio, but they quickly were occupied by chill, hip and young(er) people. The lighting was flattering, the service capable and the vibe exactly what we had sought, inviting of romantic kisses and whispered sweet nothings.
It had been a long day with lots of walking and our drink requests were simple – a glass of rosé and a beer/bourbon combo. As we sat and sipped, I felt my body relax while at the same time my eyes were stimulated by the other guests who satisfied my thirst for people who did not look like us. Gay, straight, thin, thick, different shades of skin, all were represented and it was beautiful.
Ah, Brooklyn…you brought it. I just might need to return to further explore Cobble Hill and other neighborhoods in the area. Who has recommendations for this Manhattan girl?
*An awesome gastropub which remains closed.
Another great lead from Chuck the Writer’s “What’s Up in the Neighborhood?” blog and another great read from you, Del. Keep on those keys!
Me: I miss the grungy coffee house wave of the ’90s. Good times of playing oddball board games of old and watching local musicians and listening to poetry reads. And listening to eclectically-loaded/programmed CD changers!
Thank you so much! The 90s are a blur for me – I graduated college, moved to NYC, met my (ex)husband, returned to Albany, got married and my Masters, had two kids, started my career…The only coffee house I saw was on Friends reruns!
Hahahaa! Hate Ross. Love Ross. Hate Ross . . .
He’s the teeniest bit too pathetic. Hate or love are too strong of feelings to have for Ross.
Hey, I ain’t all that crazy about Rachel, either. I’d avoid that coffee house . . . with them always hoggin’ the best couch n’ chairs in the place . . and whining away!