When it comes to NYC, I’m a bit of a traditionalist. I’m more inclined to revisit my favorite spots rather than to continually try new places. It isn’t that I’m opposed to new experiences, it’s just that I want to frequent the spaces where I’ve been pleased in the past.
Last week, N. and I got to NYC for the first time in what feels like far too long. I don’t think we’ve spent time, much less a night, in the city since last September. Passing through Penn to get to an airport to fly out of the country and home again doesn’t count. Even when you stop at Suprema for slices mid transit.
This most recent trip came with two firm plans: dinner Monday at 6:15 and a visit to the Guggenheim. Other than these commitments, we were open.
We stayed (for points) at a Hilton property way downtown, which was at the end of the 1 subway line. Yes, the same 1 subway line that flooded that very evening while we ate a most delicious dinner completely oblivious to the 2”+ rain that fell in a single hour.
After check in, we walked close enough to the East River to catch the breeze and made our way to the Seaport area for an afternoon cocktail. After some fumbling around, we found our way to the nicely appointed bar in Jean-Georges’ Tin Building. We had hoped for a rooftop bar, but it hadn’t worked out because of the threat of lightning.
Believe me, The Bar was a more than adequate consolation. We were very comfortable and our oysters and glasses of wine (Cremant for me, Sancerre for N.) were the perfect welcome to NYC. This was the first time we’d been to Tin Buildings and it was pretty cool, very Eataly-esque a la Francais. The mounds of produce artfully arranged were gorgeous. There was fromage and meats and all sorts of sundries and sweets. It wasn’t very busy, but a hot Monday afternoon in July, might not be much of an indicator.
Dinner was in the East Village at the lovely and intimate, Claud. I had peeked ahead at the menu and found much of it to be appealing. Our party of four like minded diners, settled on 6 small plates and three large plates, all served family style. We drank a bottle of crisp, clean Gruner and a luscious gamay as we savored the beautifully paced meal.
I took no pictures of food, not even the slab of chocolate cake that satisfied our entire table. Standouts were the Wagyu and the pork chop, but there wasn’t a single bad bite. We’re going back and we might both get the beef. It was absolutely the best piece of meat I’ve ever had. Fantastic.
Our next group stop was in the Gramercy area for a nightcap at Martiny’s. This was the third new place of the day for us, but our companions frequent this swanky, yet unpretentious cocktail bar and we slid in on their coattails, as the door can be a thing, if you know what I mean.
We settled in at a clubby (more equestrian than disco and in line with the red brick building’s origin as a carriage house) seating area and were served the most lovely cocktails in short order. It really was a delight.
Since we did not have to work in the morning, and our fellow craft cocktail aficionados did, we parted ways and made our way to Bleecker Street, where we were intrigued by the live music available at the Bitter End.
At last – a place with which I was familiar!
We got lucky with seats at the bar and had mixed fortune with the performances. Open mics are always the ultimate crapshoot – even when you’re in a place where Lady Gaga earned some of her original and fiercest fans, aren’t they?
Some of the music was very good, just about all of it was entertaining and it really was the ultimate wind down for a long day. We caught a cab and returned to SoMa (South Manhattan) for the night. We had plans for tomorrow.
TBC.
DelSo 
Sounds lovely