The Premium Life

The Meatpacking District used to be the place to see and be seen. As an intern who was being paid in glamour and status I couldn’t afford the drinks at Lotus so we’d prebooze at nearby dives. The Village Idiot had an awesome shot and a PBR special—we could afford that—it was only $4. Then they closed their doors because they were giving away their drinks, allowing homeless people to move in and apparently not paying rent so we moved over to Hog Pit.

Hog Pit didn’t have the fabulous specials, the smell of stale beer and vomit, the toothless men or the rotting bar (that was a lawsuit waiting to happen), but we still loved it. Most of the patrons had the same idea that we did—drink for cheap and move onto a more pricey location. Sometimes we’d have such a great time there we wouldn’t leave! In fact, I spent one evening boozing it up with Tommy Hilfiger—he wasn’t douchey at all—he was awesome. Just like every great dive in NYC, the Hog Pit was priced out of their location and had to shut it’s doors. Never fear, they reopened on 26th street between 6th and Broadway and I’ve been a few times after work, but it’s not the same.

I heard rumors that Ralph Lauren had purchased their old location and planned on opening up a Black Label Store, but then the truth came out. Mr. NYC chain restaurants himself, Steve Hanson, bought the spot on the corner of 13th street and 9th Avenue and was turning it into a burger joint to rival JG Melon and Shake Shack. I had to test it out.

We rolled into Bill’s Bar & Burger on Saturday night after a few drinks at one of Steve’s other joints, Bar 675 (he’s slowly taking over the city). The place was packed, but it is tiny. We snagged a spot at a high table in the front room—perfect for people-watching. Bill’s quickly reminded me of P.J. Clarke’s, the original one on 3rd Avenue, minus my coveted, afterwork suits. The crowd was trendy, not trashy, but you had a decent mix of the out-of-towners trying to get in—my little sister was in town—that’s why we were doing the Jersey/Long Island party in the MPD on a Saturday.
After settling in and checking out the TV (no more sports, please) we placed our beer order and requested a plate of Boneless Buffalo Chicken Wings. I’ve had an insatiable craving for wings for a month—I knew the time had come to forget about dieting and my Christmas vacation to a beach—let the pig out party begin. Even though the sauce was delicious and the strips themselves were quite satisfying and tender, my craving had not been met so I guess I’ll be paying a visit to Brother Jimmy’s next week. Read more »