Friday, 9:15pm
Mr. Dennehey's
63 Carmine St. (7th Ave. South), Manhattan
Borderline...Feels like I'm going to lose my age advantage...
You just keep on pushing your median age over the borderline.
As you know, we are pretty big fans of Mr. Dennehy's but these days there's the issue of ever-skewing age. Not that this is a kiddie spot, but it does mean it's best to skedaddle by midnight. That is all.
Sunday, 2pm
SNAP
248 West 14th St., Manhattan
Did we ever tell you the story about when Sara lived on the north side of West 14th Street, just about directly across from SNAP, pre-SNAP, pre-meatpacking hysteria, post-her great grandmother living there?
Mr. Dennehy's
63 Carmine St. (7th Ave. South), Manhattan
30toMidnight did not remember that our first trip to Mr. Dennehy's was the birthday party of researcher Annie. That was forever ago. Not that we're calling Annie old, just Age Appropriate, of course. Anyway, we were pleased to see exclusively AAs - some eating, all drinking, some watching soccer - when we entered the bar. Bartender says it's always this way. Annie had another birthday this month, perhaps we'll be back to reminisce.
Hotel Griffou
21 W. 9th St. (5th Ave.), Manhattan
Good things always happen when we're out researching with Annie. AAs like her, AIs like her, she's smart and fun and quick to share her champagne with those of us who sometimes get slurry. Slurring, by the way, is a nonnegative sign of complete relaxation, something we all need to experience.
Standing under the low ceilings at the AA-crowded bar of designedly nondescript Hotel Griffou (which is not a hotel though we've categorized it under hotel bar, mostly because like actual hotel bars it's AA), we considered beverages while contemplating the disproportionate number of gentleman, many in sports coats. Like.
Then Sara, who can identify about three nonathlete personalities, tapped Annie and said, "Hey," just as Annie said, um, well, she said the full name of ThisChef. And, since they'd met before, Annie reached out her hand and said hi.
ThisChef is the perfect embodiment of AA: 38, charming, successful, parent to be, not afraid to knock a mostly melted candle onto Sara's shirt, skirt and leg (the same leg that, earlier, took a hit from David Adler's
Amidst chatting up other bar patrons and fielding fans ("Your restaurant is the Most Bangingest," said one), ThisChef met with his agent, an AI who, yes, is one of those rule exceptions. We talked about sake, shiksas, stupidsoxfans, and chefs. A most bangingest time was had by all. We’ll be back, but we will not order the crab dip, and neither should you unless you’re craving cheese-drowned-carrot-heavy-mirepoix.
Bongo
West St. (W. 10th St.), Manhattan
Three different rooms and hardly anyone to fill them, though those inside are AA. We're not into the eclectic barware (don't serve a sauvignon blanc in a heavy, thick, purple, glass goblet) or the mixed drinks (don't throw all the pith and rind into the blender when an ingredient is grapefruit; don't use club soda when tonic was requested) or some of the service (don't tell us a credit card is denied if you only tried once). But the lobster salad on tiny dinner rolls are addictive and the cole slaw that accompanies the platter is fantastic. That said, the menu is hard to open (bad clasp placement) and feels dirty. Wow does this sound super negative when really we were thinking we'd like to host a party at the new Bongo, in either the front, blueish room that somewhat resembles a lobby, or the smaller, back, reddish room that's more living room-like?
pictured: chardonnay in a glass with a flipped over rim like a vase, or a collar.
Cabrito
50 Carmine St. (Bedford), Manhattan
Early happy hour ends at 7pm at Cabrito (at bar and tables). By 7:20pm what what previously crowded-Age Appropriate-standing room only becomes empty, waiting for 8pm when the crowd again arrives.
It's like this every night, bartender says. And mostly Age Appropriate too, though not for the Late Night happy hour (11pm-2am, Thursday-Sunday) which is mostly (but not wholly) Age InAppropriate.
What we most enjoyed while enjoying our Rajas con Crema was watching a group of four boys (the only AIs in the house) do two shots each in five minutes between finishing dinner and walking out the door.
Village Tavern
46 Bedford St. (Leroy St.), Manhattan
The last time (well, one time) we were here, Sara thought she might be entering a relationship with a Colombian oligarch. He was smart, had a killer accent, and no intention of engaging in anything moral with our sweet heroine. These days we are at least ten years older than any potential partners at the Village Tavern on a Saturday night, but it's still an enjoyable bar, mostly in daylight if AA is your care.
Bleecker Heights Tavern
296 Bleecker St. (7th Ave. South), Manhattan
If we knew the name of this place we'd tell you. A call to the Five Guys below provided no clarity ("Hey, Julius, what's the name of the bar upstairs? No, the one upstairs. Upstairs"). We're going with Bleecker-Heights-Tavern-Magic-Hat-Five-Guys where the bartender told us, "It's usually kind of older in here, like 25 to 35."
We didn't even see anyone as old as 25 when we stopped in, but we did enjoy the cool view of Seventh Avenue South.
