saloon 43
pear party, jack harlow as bratz doll, sophia roe needs a social media coordinator + a new anonymous professional answers my qs on where to eat, drink, be in NYC
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Well y’all we have a truly horrific amount of events in this issue, including a holiday market at Gem Home, a wreath-making workshop at June, a Comme Si pop-up at Quarters (I was at the Ghia event at Quarters this weekend and was gently bodied by a randomly-appearing Jack Harlow who was dressed—I mean—100% like a Bratz doll), a “pear party” at the Gohar store (such a prime example of an event that makes me Reflect On My Life anywhere outside New York), Lux Magazine at Pioneer Works (my superbowl…).
We also have an exciting new installment from She Who Will Not Be Named because it’s prob illegal for her to write for us, but basically she’s my need-this-right-now restaurant and bar contact. She knows everything about where to eat and drink and be in New York. She’s sharing some of my frantic where-do-I-go texts and her answers to those. She is, as I just texted her this morning, an anomaly in how she can do the job she does with 0% douche to her. You’ll see.
We also have jobs for chefs, PR people, dressmakers, woodworkers, a CRO specialist, whatever that is, and Sophia Roe is seeking a social media coordinator. ICYM our gift guide, it’s so beautiful I keep looking at it:
I tried out Bufon (from Demo’s team) this weekend, and found it to have some of the friendliest wait staff in New York. Like I was stunned. Besides that I had a Bufon’s martini that didn’t get me drunk in the Least (which I liked), a delicious mackerel, tuna carpaccio with daikon and lemon zest, a bunch of other stuff but I was on a date and distracted. Vibes are amazing. It’s huge for its bit, which is sexy little European restaurant, meaning you can get a goddamn table—unheard of these days.
Followed that up with new-to-1st-Ave Banshee, a Guinness and oysters bar that was festively decorated for the holidays, pours “an absolute creamer,” and I was not the oldest person there. Refreshing.
Y’all this candle…I smell a lot of candles for work and nothing beats this. I just wrote about this in AD as the smell of the hottest person you’ve ever met. It’s musky and peppery and subtle and sexy. The brand has 735 followers on Instagram. Get in on the ground floor.
If you’re going to that Comme Si pop-up, these are the socks to get.
Lane has promised she’s making more of these. Watch this space.
My favorite artist, Milton Avery, has a wide display of work on at Karma. Free, but I would pay $100 to go back.
The most thoughtful gift ever is this hand-made riso calendar from Mina at Mimo Design.
I loved this from Cultured—cute way to encourage seeing art when it’s freezing.
New Gunk!!!! For December. Get to the gig!!!!
Eddie’s rec this week:
One of the things about my life that feels distinctly New York is having friends who work jobs so fancy they have to use an alias for it. One such person approached me with an idea about writing some restaurant reviews for the saloon crowd. I yelped. This is someone I text routinely—as evidenced by her first installment—for restaurant advice and she usually responds within about 45 seconds. She’s right, by the way, I take her advice 20% of the time but only because I’m usually texting her with such low blood sugar a decision has to be made before the 45 seconds.
I think I get restaurant questions from Julia at least once a week. They are usually completely out of the blue, and I think she actually only takes my advice maybe 20% of the time (which doesn’t offend me at all Julia!!!!!). It’s like a game for my restaurant-addled brain. For this installment, I’ll take a few of those questions and answer them. In the future, we can talk about places where you can read when you actually really are just wanting to read, or how I strongly believe that if you are feeling depressed you likely just need to go to spend an evening in Bay Ridge.
Sadly, going early and getting on line does in fact work. The last time I went was with two friends who know the bartender, so we got special treatment by way of bar seats at a regular time of night (luxurious). But every other time I’ve eaten here I’ve gotten on line around 4:30pm. It’s admittedly so embarrassing to stand in line between two Beli-users when you are in land-of-amazing-food (Chinatown), especially because I’ve heard the owners also find it embarrassing and I desperately want them to like me? But if you can become okay with leaving work early and swallowing your pride for approximately 30 minutes, you can eat almost anywhere. (See also: Torrisi, Wild Cherry, I Cavallini.) At the end of your self-imposed humiliation ritual, there’s ouefs mayo with generous scoops of trout roe and just a little bit of maggi. Worth noting too that the couple behind this place are about to open their bigger, flashier restaurant (Bistrot Ha) around the corner, which might take the pressure off a bit. (And then we can talk about how to get in there.)
If you’re willing to walk a bit, the answer is Grand Central Oyster Bar, because it’s huge and always empty, and when you order a dirty martini they bring a sidecar each of gin and olive juice, neither which are on ice. For something properly in Times Square, there’s The View, that revolving restaurant that’s almost charmingly gimmicky, but you should budget at least 20 extra minutes for the elevator up and down from the 48th floor. If you’re looking for something rowdier, there’s also the bar at Keens, except you need to fight someone for a bar seat, and—if you are like me—you will get ridiculously anxious while doing that and you will need to apologize to the person you’re with because you cannot talk right now: you are focusing. The last time I was there I stood next to a nearly blackout divorce lawyer from New Jersey who was yelling at his family about how he always gets the gay divorces (because he is gay) while double fisting a cosmo and one of the boiled eggs that sit on the bar. It did inspire me to try an egg, which are free, though they sit on the bar for an indeterminate amount of time. Wouldn’t think too hard about it.
When Julia lived in Crown Heights, the obvious choice was La Flor—spicy pepperoni with ranch pie would be the order—but ICYMI her apartment drowned, and so the updated choice is F&F Pizzeria, for either the clam pie (80% butter), or the one with sausage and sage.
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