One New York Life

I complain about Manhattan a lot to anyone who will listen. It’s kind of dirty, it’s over-expensive, I have to ride a subway to work every morning with roughly 500 other people in my car, I can’t have a car, groceries are overpriced, and 1,000 other things. The problem is — every once in a while Manhattan drops a ridiculous night that can only happen in a city where bars are open until 4 am, Late Night Happy Hour exists and happens from 12am to 3am, around every corner is a neighborhood bar you’ve never been to, no one ever has to drive, and a group can turn swapping two favorite bars in to a night out. The last time this happened was a friend’s bachelor party that began with a Mets game and ended yelling curses at Sean William Scott and his entourage (true story). It never happens when you’re expecting it.

Two of PLR*’s co-workers moved in to a new apartment on Wall Street. This lovely 500-square foot studio/office apartment comes in for the bargain price of $2600/month. This is being shared by two guys… see above for the list of things that really suck. The evening began as a house-warming party. As it’s Manhattan, the housewarming party began promptly at 10pm. The supposedly low-key evening featured bottles of wine, cases of Coors Light, and bottles of sangria. By midnight, it had started to border on ugly. By 12:05 someone had uttered the words no-one really needed to hear.

“We’re going out.”

Now, keep in mind. I’m not a fancy guy. I travel like a homeless person and I don’t generally spend my free time in club clothes. When PLR’s group decide to go out, it’s generally to a place where they can shake their collective asses. My ass does not shake. I know my limits. Ass-shaking is well beyond those limits. Regardless, the group was going to a club near Irving Place which, fortunately, is pretty close to Pete’s Tavern. I told the group where I would be and took the non-club people with me. We giggled at the club folks’ desire to wait in line to be allowed to drink and went to get some cocktails.

Should the night have ended after a few rounds at Pete’s and a cab ride home, we wouldn’t be here right now. After waiting in line for far too long, the 2nd group met back up with us for a few rounds. This was followed by a sentence which I don’t think I’d ever heard uttered after 2 am in the history of ever.

“Let’s go do Kareoke.”

Train-wreck potential just went off the charts.

We wind up in 3 cabs going to a bar called 2nd on 2nd. Now, I’ve never been to a serious kareoke bar. My kareoke experience has been “Kareoke Night” at a bar near my old college, bowling alley kareoke night, and my 30th birthday party. I have never been to a bar whose raison d’etre is kareoke. Not only that, but one of PLR’s co-workers IS A REGULAR THERE. To the point where he was known by the bartenders and the kareoke DJ.

Have you ever had a moment where you were really drunk, but something so bizarre happens that your brain actually forgets it’s drunk and you’re suddenly stone cold sober? It’s happened to me three times in my life. This was one of those times. I walked in to this place — this glorious, glorious place — and walked in to see the whitest person I’ve ever seen terribly rapping to a song I didn’t know. This was followed by a guy trying to pull off Celine. It was amazing. On the list of “this isn’t actually happening, I’m really in a movie right now” moments, this ranked up there white trash fight at Atlantis. I could do nothing but sit in awe of the awesome.

We eventually closed this bar, which is conveniently placed across the street from a diner. At 4:15 am, when your party sees a diner, it goes to the diner. There is not a debate… it just happens. Apparently, your body knocking all alcohol out of your system in 8 seconds takes a lot of energy, because I ate at an unprecedented level. I ordered like food was free. I expressed my disdain for the lack of bacon.

We walked out of the diner and it was light out. PLR and I got home at 5:34 AM.

Nights that you plan somehow never turn out to be epic. I’m not sure why that is. Nights that just happen spontaneously always turn out to be the most fun. Nights like this are what keep me from thinking I’m wasting my time. This night doesn’t happen in Albany. It sure doesn’t happen in Mechanicville.

At some point, I’m actually going to have to admit that I kinda like it here.

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* – Ms. L has filed a protest at being called Ms. L, so she will henceforth be referred to as PLR. Should you see her in real life, this is now her nickname. You should refer to her only as that. No longer by her first name. She wants to call her own nickname, she’s stuck with it

Pete’s Tavern House Ale
Brewed By: ?
Brewed In: ?
Type: Dark Ale
ABV: ?

What They Say: Nothing — near as I can tell the beer is only available on draft and only available in the tavern itself. They insist the beer is the original recipe used in 1864 when the bar opened. The bar claims the (disputed) title of “oldest bar in Manhattan”. The dispute is based on the fact that there are bars in Manhattan that were opened sooner, Pete’s remained open — albeit disguised as a flower shop — as a Speakeasy through Prohibition. Not surprisingly, it sits in a Manhattan neighborhood (Gramercy) that has known money forever and is one of those spots that I don’t feel like I have enough net worth to even walk through. For reference, the neighborhood is named for Gramercy Park, a small, one-block park in the center of the neighborhood. The park is private. It’s surrounded by iron fences and has locked gates to which only the residents who live on the block surrounding the park have keys.

Website: You’re arguably the oldest tavern in New York City. You make your own beer — the recipe of which hasn’t changed since 1864… you can probably do better than a free Geocities website that you haven’t updated since Geocities was invented. Seriously.

Why I Picked It: Pete’s Tavern is rapidly becoming one of my favorite bars in the city. A decently mixed crowd and supremely reasonable drink prices make it a great place for a group. If you get there early enough to grab the corner near the door it’s quite a good place to spend a night. A decent number of HDTVs on local sports with music that just borders on “shout” level. They have a back-room with no music for folks who want to eat dinner and outdoor space. I really have no idea how a bar maintains a license for outdoor space in a neighborhood with as much money as Gramercy. The number of favors owed to this establishment must be mind-blowing. I had never noticed a tap for the House Ale but spotted it on the menu.

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Presentation (5): Draft only — doesn’t really count. As I also didn’t see the tap, I can’t comment. N/A

Originality (5): As the recipe is supposedly from the mid-1800s, it’s hard to fairly compare its originality to anything in the modern day. Too complicated so I’m not rating it. N/A

Body (10): A prototypical draught dark ale — low carbonation and a medium consistency. Low carbonation is admittedly one of my favorite features of dark ales and this one was no different. 8

Taste (10): The thing I love about dark ales is they rarely tend to be overcarbonated and never really taste watered down. At the same time, the beer was wet enough not to dry your mouth out and an almost total lack of bitterness made this a perfect beer to have with my tasty burger. If I had to compare it to something easily available, it would be a thinner version of Newcastle. 10

Efficiency (10): Tough to say. In fairness, though, I had two with my dinner and felt like I could have had ten more without noticing. The under $5/pint price is a good deal for Manhattan but I’d also expect, at the very least, a tingle off two. No dice. 4

Versatility (10): Considering the fact it’s only available in one bar in the city and only on draft, it’s tough to use it for anything other than “getting drunk at Pete’s Tavern while watching a ballgame.” While that’s an excellent use, it kind of hurts the versatility score. 1

Final Grade: 23 (of 40) (translates to 29/50) – good beer.