The Premium Life

The bright lights of Times Square – to visitors it’s considered heaven in the center of Manhattan – to locals it’s hell on earth. Tourists from every part of the world congregate in the land of adult Disneyland to stare at stupid shit, chow at chain restaurants that turn rats into sushi and buy knock-off handbags from men who convince you it just “fell off the back of a truck.” Real or fake, nothing screams visitor louder than a Coach bag! I’m not going to completely diss the square – I’ve both lived and worked there and I honestly think Herald Square is a bit more maddening (I currently work here and break out into hives on an hourly basis) – but the trick to the square is to know where to go and when!

Stroll down Broadway at 7pm on a Friday and run the risk of getting arrested … you’ll eventually lose your mind and shove someone out of your way and into the path of a speeding cab. If you walk down that same street at midnight on a Monday night in January you’ll own it (aside from New Year’s Eve – I’d rather be in jail), but you’ll also turn into an ice sculpture. I lived in Times Square for four years, not exactly on Broadway, but I was so close that I would have to show proof of residency in order to get into my apartment on New Year’s Eve and one year the cops STILL wouldn’t let me in at all so I went to a local bar on 9th Avenue and drowned my “I’m never getting married” sorrows in a Grey Goose martini with my roommate. We eventually picked ourselves up after that never-exciting ball came crashing down and walked over to our favorite little hole in the wall on 52nd street and 8th Avenue, the Russian Vodka Room.

I’m not sure who introduced me to the Vodka Room – might’ve been one of the 8,000 men I’ve dated in NYC (and I’m still single) – or we might’ve simply stumbled upon it in a drunken stupor one evening when we were dodging out-of-towners. Either way, it’s pretty rare that anyone ever seems to remember leaving the RVR. This diamond in the rough, no-frills bar/restaurant is a bit reminiscent of someone’s basement, equipped with a piano player. The dark entryway leads you into a world full of Russians speaking Russian – guaranteed you’ll feel like a foreigner in your own country. Russian mobsters, wannabe supermodels and suits escaping the office line the mahogany bar to drink Batika 3 beer while slurping on delicious borscht and sucking down vodka shots. As someone with a Ukrainian background I’m embarrassed to say that I had never tried borscht before the Vodka Room and now I eat this beet soup every time I go there. It makes the dead-of-winter chills a little more bearable. Read more »

I’m sure you’ve heard about Andre Balazs’ Standard Hotel — not the one in *cough cough* LA — the one straddling the High Line in Manhattan. I credit this place with giving Hogs & Heifers an excuse to raise their cover charge — maybe they’re just trying to keep the dancing girls off of the bar! Anyway, I’ve already done the Standard Grill and the Biergarten (yep, I’m that cool). The Grill reminds me of Pastis — with more southerners than Euro — and the Biergarten is — well, I can drink tons of German beers and practice my manly belching skills.

In addition to the Standard’s 18th floor Boom Boom Room (did they really need to steal this from the Black Eyed Peas? I did hear they’re changing the name to QT) they’re also opening up another bar across from said horribly-named spot that I refuse to repeat. This sexy addition to the Standard’s adult Disneyland features a large hot tub, a pool big enough to hold at least twenty people and a Swine Flu vaccine — I kid, I kid — but they do sell condoms and bathing trunks.

Since this room’s existence is still on the hush hush, I’d venture to guess that you should expect an opening sometime before the official holiday season kicks off (judging by the pics, which are courtesy of Eater.com). I’m slightly allergic to bathing suits, but with the right amount of Grey Goose vodka and an amazing view of the Hudson River in a snowstorm, I might be tricked into spending an evening in the hot tub.

the hallway

The South Street Seaport surely invokes visions of dreaded tourists dancing in your head. Before I moved down to this neighborhood I felt the EXACT same way. I was so close to SoHo, TriBeCa and the West Village – why would I dream of hanging out in a neighborhood that is overrun with fake Coach handbag carrying Midwesterners and the guys who sell them?

Well, when you’re facing a fifteen minute walk to the 4 train in the dead of winter on a rainy Saturday night in a leather mini-skirt, 4” stilettos and a sleeveless shirt you’ll begin to think differently. At first I would jump on the train at all hours and head to Marquee or Cain in an attempt to catch Lindsay Lohan make her clothes disappear or to verbally abuse reflective sunglass-wearing guidos. The following winter at the Seaport something changed – I grew up – and began to explore the area. Would I really want to date some guy who hangs out at those “hotspot” clubs and lounges on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night anyway? Not anymore.

Once a good friend of mine moved into 45 Wall Street we began exploring since we had each other and were always too cold to head uptown. Now keep in mind that we didn’t hang out at the actual Seaport, we headed a block west and north of the Seaport – this hidden gem of an area begins on the corner of Front Street and Beekman Street.

On the corner of Front and Beekman you will come across Salud Restaurant and Bar, a homey Spanish tapas spot that has knock-you-out coconut mojitos, live Cuban music on Thursday nights and fantastic happy hour specials that attract lots of the AIG men. I’ve never had a bad time here, but then again, I don’t think I’ve managed to leave sober – the drinks are so addictive you can’t have just one!

Next door to Salud, towards Water Street, is Fresh Salt. It’s one of the neighborhood’s best kept secrets. It’s a borderline divey, nautical-themed bar/restaurant that’s jam-packed with local businesspeople and natives who are attracted to the dimly lit interior, fresh munchies, drink specials and late night hours without the tourists.

On the other side of Salud on Front Street is Stella Maris, a dark and sexy Irish Restaurant and Bar that serves lots of traditional cuisine and seafood. After work it’s a bit of a meat market scene – married men tend to congregate at the bar and always offer to pay our tab – not that we’ve ever minded this. While disapproving single women in corporate wear shoot nasty looks in our direction … it’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it. The wine list is impressive and the pours – well, they’re even better!

Diagonally across the street from Stella Maris is Bin 220, a cozy, mellow and romantic Italian wine bar. A local fave – Bin 220 is not only a fab date spot, but you can also converse with friends or clients without being interrupted or hit on – which can be very annoying when you’re frantically searching for a chilled out evening. Read more »