In New York City, you're more likely to see a butterfly tattoo than you are an actual butterfly. You'll probably see more flower-selling than flowers growing. Bombarded as New Yorkers are by honking horns, flashing lights, jackhammers, sirens and psychoses, it's important to find some places where you can get away. Where the noise dies down a bit, and the flow of people slows to a comfortable trickle.
Conservatory Garden in Central Park is just that kind of place...
On my first visit to Grassroots Tavern, I accepted a $3 pint of Red Hook ESB from the bartender—which in New York City, is a pleasant surprise in and of itself. Being one of New York's many subterranean drinking dens, the place has a basement feel—with low, ornate tin ceilings and weathered wood surroundings. There was a cat walking the wooden planks, which had been blackened from over sixty years of drunken shuffling. The bartender, an efficient man in his sixties, worried out loud that the cat might get downstairs into the basement.
I started to feel a bit like I was in someone's home, and that's always a good sign...
In New York City, you're more likely to see a butterfly tattoo than you are an actual butterfly. You'll probably see more flower-selling than flowers growing. Bombarded as New Yorkers are by honking horns, flashing lights, jackhammers, sirens and psychoses, it's important to find some places where you can get away. Where the noise dies down a bit, and the flow of people slows to a comfortable trickle.
On my first visit to Grassroots Tavern, I accepted a $3 pint of Red Hook ESB from the bartender—which in New York City, is a pleasant surprise in and of itself. Being one of New York's many subterranean drinking dens, the place has a basement feel—with low, ornate tin ceilings and weathered wood surroundings. There was a cat walking the wooden planks, which had been blackened from over sixty years of drunken shuffling. The bartender, an efficient man in his sixties, worried out loud that the cat might get downstairs into the basement.
