Midtown Lunch

If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. Today, Mamacita hands the reins over to (former Profiled: Midtown Lunch’er) Blondie, from Blondie and Brownie, to tell us about Bamboo 52- where she and Brownie had their One Year Blog-versary party on Wednesday night. Congrats ladies on a great first year! (It seems like you’ve been around much longer…)

When Brownie and I decided a boozy celebration was in order for our blog-versary, we couldn’t decide on the proper place for happy hour. Should we venture out to somewhere new and possibly awesome, or should we stick to an old tried-and-true? Tried and true won out and we ended up at Bamboo 52, a girly Theater District lounge with an identity crisis.

Like many of the drinking establishments in that weird land between Midtown and Hells Kitchen, Bamboo tries to appeal to a large demographic: tourists, Midtowners, matinee ladies, bridge-and-tunnel folk, basically anyone on their way home from work, or on their way to a musical (jazz hands). Bamboo’s schtick is sushi and a 9-hour happy hour. I’m a proponent of the latter. It’s a pretty decent happy hour if you know the unwritten rule: stick to the mixed drinks, they’re basically the only things ½ off. Don’t buy beer, sake, or shots and you’re good.

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Our Midtown Happy Hour correspondent Mamacita has the week off, but I couldn’t help but post this happy hour suggestion we got last week:

“Ok, so this is wierd. Applebees in Times Square has a bar on the ground floor. Way over on the side is a room with couches, those little tables, a flat panel TV or two and a big plate glass window onto the street. Kinda like a downtown lounge, only it’s in Applebees. And it seems full of midwestern looking tourists.

I was thinking: I wonder if it’s cool to hang out here? A lounge, in Applebees? Then I was thinking: It’s a little like midtown lunch lounge. Serviceable, convenient, and it might even be quite enjoyable if you catch it at the right time. The only downside is that the turnover may be small and it might get boring after two or three hours. And Times Square is slowing down a bit these days, so there might be less turnover than you might like in a bar this small. I have no idea of it’s a good candidate for a review. But I’m just throwing it out there.”

If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. Today she writes about one of my favorite places in all of New York City, and surprisingly it’s in the heart of Midtown!

It seems like everyone knows about Sake Bar Hagi. This little Izakaya, on 49th btw. 6+7th, has been continuously packed since being reviewed in the New York Times in 2006, and even more unbearable since being profiled by Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel last year. Though there is little that hasn’t already been covered in other reviews, we just had to include it in our list of the best places in midtown to drink and eat for cheap! And with most small bites coming in at under $4, how could we not!?!

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap.

There I was, just this past week, feeling the bitter sting of another round of layoffs at my job. Most of my friends were bearing the weight of additional duties on top of suffering pay cuts (Here! Take on some more work for less money and BTW we’ve stopped our retirement contributions). The song ‘nobody knows you when you’re down and out’ rang in my ears. Yes my friends, we’ve gone from bottle service to boxed wine and if this keeps up I’ll be reviewing Franzia ‘chillable red’ from my stoop next month.

So what’s a gal to do when her purse is light and the market is low? It turns out a safe bet is Wharf bar (on 587 Third Avenue) to indulge in $3.50 beers and $1 tacos. Thank God for recession specials and Lord knows we need them!

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. Unfortunately, sometimes when you and your coworkers are super thirsty, and hungry, and trying to find a place that is convenient for everybody, you end up stumbling into a dud. Which is exactly what happened this week…

Now I will preface this review by saying, dear gentle readers, that I am not a woman of high means. Yet, I have indulged in a bottle of Midleton Very Rare or even a Jameson ‘pure pot still’ 15 year whiskey. However, when I am faced with a pricy “signature cocktail” I am not afraid to speak out for a change! A change in the great Big Apple swindle, or what I call, the girly drink grift!

Here was the group of us late at night at Legends on W. 33rd Street. In our defense, it was the only place nearby to our respective train stops… and this is what we found: Legendary Cocktails for $11. This included the Big Apple Martini (a sweet and sour concoction), the Sex in the City Cosmo (that unfortunately speaks for itself), and the Empire State Bellini (that I’m sure is actually poured pretty small). The Happy hour was from 4pm to 7pm with $4 domestic drafts and $5 well drinks. Well, at least that wasn’t too bad… if you ignored the decor.

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. This week, Mamacita heads to the newly reopened Holland Bar, and discovers that not everything in the big New York Times article last week was exactly accurate…

The word has spread that the venerated and thought departed Holland Bar has reopened to the delight of the beleaguered livers of Port Authority boozers. In a city where shiny-new high-rise towers go up and neighborhood icons close down, this is a real victory for the humble masses that for decades called the Holland Bar their second home. Unfortunately, The New York Times story heralding the bar’s reopening got some facts wrong. So, I headed over to Holland Bar to set the record straight… and bask in the glow of its grand reopening splendor.

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap- although in this case, the “chaep” part seems to be ignored. Thankfully she ate some haggis to make up for that.

In a late celebration of Robert Burns Day (the birthday of the national poet of Scotland) we headed out this week to the only Scottish bar in NYC, St Andrews, to commemorate the holiday with some haggis. Now St. Andrews is a rather upscale bar and restaurant, especially if you consider the places I’ve reviewed before. There is casual seating in the front, a long bar stretching along the right wall and a formal dinning in the back room. In keeping with its namesake, golf paraphernalia is festooned upon the walls.

The Scotch list is long and covers a wide range of single malts categorized by region from Islay, Lowland, Speyside, and Campbeltown and all points in between. Also present are many Scottish draught beers and even some from Ireland and England (hey, we can all get along right?). If that was not enough they also have approximately 100 different bottled beers including a few American, German and Belgian. St. Andrews is also home of the kilted bartenders. In due respect to Zach, I did not check if said kilts were worn regimental. I’m sure he is delighted not to have that pic in his inbox!

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap.

The first time I went to the Judge Roy Bean it was a holiday weekend and the place was mostly empty, save for a few guys eating at the bar and a family of tourists seeking rest at a table. I ordered a well drink. My friends got a beer. In general, I was not really impressed. There wasn’t a happy hour, prices were in the $6-$8 range, my drink came in your usual medium sized glass and was just right, but not potent. The place was ok, but somewhat lacking. I couldn’t get past the fact that I was drinking in Midtown. Now let’s fast forward to this past Wednesday.

I needed a bar to review and I figured I’d give the Judge a retrial. I called upon a couple of single girlfriends and some pals and we met up after work. I was the second to show up. By then my blonde friend had an Orange Stoli and soda half finished and was telling Derek, the Irish bartender, how cute he was. I got a black and tan and soon realized that, “Wow, there’s a bunch of hot guys here!” You see babes, I’m not calling this review ladies night at the JRB because it was the bar’s theme night. Oh no, as the night drew longer it was obvious by the healthy dose of young man-meat that filled the bar that this was the place to be if you were a single lady.

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week, our Happy Hour Correspondent “Mamacita” will post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. This week she heads to Desmond’s because another commenter told her not to.  (That’s how things work around here.)

In my last review of Subway Inn commenter Goats remarked, “If you write about Desmonds next or my beloved McCormacks, I’m seriously gonna hunt you down!” Well, what can I say? I couldn’t help but get his ‘goat’ by moving this bar up to the top of my list of happy hours to write about.

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If you like to eat, chances are you like to drink (read: a lot of you are freakin’ lushes), so I thought maybe it was time to introduce a happy hour column to the site. Every week we’ll post about a different bar in Midtown that fits the Midtown Lunch mentality: unhealthy food, not lame (unless it’s lame in a cool way), and most importantly… cheap. This week our one and only Happy Hour Correspondent Mamacita (yes, the commenters managed to scare off our other contributor) hits up the Subway Inn, a hygenically dubious bar in Midtown East…

What hasn’t already been said about this celebrated yet inconspicuous bar? The Subway Inn has been the stumbling ground for crowd-weary and thirsty locals since 1937. In sharp contrast to its neighbor (the regal Bloomingdales) Subway Inn is small, dark and dirty. Many an old-timer has made their dent on those bar stools and all these years later you can still find some sitting on their favorite seat.

I have to admit, it had been a while since I last visited. I think it may have been in 2004 and at that point the bar still truly belonged to the hunched drunkards and working class Joes. Subway Inn had yet to see the dive bar fame that has popularized many a bar in the past few years. The ceiling back then, as I recall, was heavily textured with fuzzy stalactites of greasy dust bunnies. This filth proceeded to cascade down the walls with its shaggy smut only to be stopped by the backs and shoulders of its happy denizens.

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